


Chocolate pancakes

by ToxicPineapple



Series: Femslash February 2020 [22]
Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: (That's the prompt), Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Conversations, Domestic Fluff, Early Mornings, Established Relationship, F/F, Femslash February, Fluff, Lazy - Freeform, Married Fluff, Pancakes, Post-Hope's Peak Academy, drowsy mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:35:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22667101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple
Summary: Chiaki hums. “Why’d you set an alarm for today? Don’t you have the day off?”“I do,” Mikan whispers. “I still want to get up early, though.”“At four?” Chiaki snorts. “You’re inhuman. Don’t you ever wanna be lazy?”“In my profession,” Mikan smiles dryly. “Laziness is considered a safety hazard.”“I concur,” groans Chiaki.---Mikan likes waking up early, even though it's her day off. Chiaki has less of an appreciation for this practice, but loves her wife regardless.
Relationships: Nanami Chiaki/Tsumiki Mikan
Series: Femslash February 2020 [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1616182
Comments: 12
Kudos: 60





	Chocolate pancakes

**Author's Note:**

> written for femslash february day twenty two! the prompt is "lazy"

Mikan’s alarm is gentle. A song she grew fond of in high school put into a music box. She likes the tinkling sounds of it, the way the chords hum. It’s her favourite way to wake up in the morning, light not yet streaming through the curtains because of the early hour and her wife’s arms tucked around her waist. It’s Sunday, which means it’s her day off, so she doesn’t have to get up at four in the morning to drive to the hospital today, but she set her alarm last night anyway. She likes getting up early, even when she doesn’t have to. In a minute she’ll pull Chiaki’s arm off of her and crawl out from under the covers, heading into the kitchen to make breakfast. But right now she just listens to the music, absorbing the peace.

“Y’know,” Chiaki murmurs against her neck. “I don’t know how you don’t hate that thing. Your alarm. I always end up hating alarms after a while.”

“I didn’t realise you were awake often enough to hate it,” Mikan admits in reply, tilting her head back and resting it on Chiaki’s shoulder. She feels her wife smile against her neck. “Sorry, should I change it?” It’s a regular apology, not a frantic one; Mikan has worked really, really hard to start giving these rather than the alternative. Of course, high school was so many years ago, she’s pretty much expected to have calmed down by now. (And working in a hospital, it’s not like she can afford to be so wired.)

“No. If you like it, keep it.” Chiaki hums. “Why’d you set an alarm for today? Don’t you have the day off?”

“I do,” Mikan whispers. “I still want to get up early, though.”

“At four?” Chiaki snorts. “You’re inhuman. Don’t you ever wanna be lazy?”

“In my profession,” Mikan smiles dryly. “Laziness is considered a safety hazard.”

“I concur,” groans Chiaki, “but it’s your day off. Can’t you sleep in until six at least?” She’s being sarcastic. Mikan knows that if Chiaki is allowed to sleep uninterrupted, she won’t roll out of bed until two in the afternoon. Which works for her just fine, because unlike Mikan, for work, Chiaki doesn’t actually have to go anywhere. The benefits of being a YouTube Let’s Play-er for sure. Mikan doesn’t  _ really  _ get it, or why it’s a career, but since it makes Chiaki happy, and is a pretty steady source of income (not that she cares about that), she doesn’t have any room to complain.

Mikan hums anyway, lifting one of Chiaki’s hands from her shoulder and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I think I’ll get up now,” she says, and laughs when Chiaki groans.

“But I get so cold when you leave,” she complains.

“You could always get up with me,” Mikan suggests, knowing full well that Chiaki would rather die. The incomprehensible response that she receives makes her laugh harder, shaking her head and slowly sliding her legs out from under the comforter. “I’m going to make breakfast,” she whispers.

“Breakfast! The sun hasn’t even risen yet!” Chiaki protests. “Back into bed, you heathen. Didn’t you watch  _ Gremlins?” _

“I was always confused by the logic in those movies,” Mikan hums, slipping out from Chiaki’s arms. Her wife huffs out something indignant, curling up under the blankets, and Mikan smiles, brushing back soft strands of greyish pink hair to look at Chiaki’s face. She’s so lovely, and the bluish tint from the sky outside makes her seem almost ethereal, even though she’s trying her best to get back to sleep. “I mean, when does it stop being after midnight and start being before midnight? Maybe after you’ve slept?”

  
“Who cares?” Chiaki groans. “Come back to sleep, please, I love you.”

“I should hope so,” Mikan snorts, standing up. She  _ is  _ a bit chilly without Chiaki’s arms around her, so she finds a cardigan on the floor that she thinks is hers and pulls it over her shoulders. She moves towards the door, but stops before slipping out of the room, because even after all this time, she can’t just let it hang in the air-- “I love you too,” she adds, and hears a hum from her wife. Chiaki’s hand shoots up in the air, her index and middle fingers pressing into her palm. ASL for  _ I love you.  _ Mikan smiles. Chiaki only knows that from being on the internet. It would be more fitting to do it in JSL. Still, her smile stays tacked onto her face when she slips out into the hall.

Mikan is a self-proclaimed good cook. The only reason she can be so proud of it, though, is because it’s something that she started doing because she wanted to. And not because it made her feel like a worthwhile person, but simply because she wanted to do it. It makes her happy to smell the food cooking, to watch colours change as she spoons batter onto a pan. Soon enough the kitchen is sizzling with the sound of her pancakes on the stove, and smells like butter.

As she flips one of the pancakes onto a plate, Mikan notes the sound of socked feet padding down the hall, and smiles again.

“Those had better have chocolate in them,” Chiaki mumbles. When Mikan glances at her, she sees that Chiaki is wrapped in her blanket, leaning against the doorframe and watching Mikan cook. There’s a soft look in her pink eyes.

“No promises,” Mikan replies, licking a bit of chocolate from her thumb.

“Mmm.” Chiaki smiles, perhaps smelling it in the air, and closes her eyes. For a second Mikan thinks that she’s going to fall asleep where she’s standing; she’s done it before. But then her eyes flutter open again. “It’s a testament to how much I love you that I’m willing to be up before the sun on a Sunday, Mikan.”

_ So lazy.  _ Mikan shakes her head and smiles. A few years ago she might’ve apologised. But after all this time… she doesn’t have to say anything other than, “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> nanamiki... good....
> 
> bruh i was like. fuck. i haven't written mikan yet. fuck. but here i am. vibing. now i just need to write toko (on day twenty seven :eyes:) and i'll be solid
> 
> \--i mean i haven't written junko or hiyoko but i don't really intend to so there's that--
> 
> akfhkdslj yeah!! these ladies!!!! god i love them. pancakes are great. and so is domestic fluff. god i love chiaki
> 
> i wrote and uploaded this in language arts class on february eleventh aklfj
> 
> edit: forgot to post 😔


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